Be Careful, Cousin (Adventures in Odyssey)
by Eruanna1875
Summary: When he answers a mysterious message from AREM, Bernard Walton finds himself caught up in a strange, and possibly dangerous, plot surrounding his cousin, Eugene Meltsner, and Eugene's secret project. A Novacom AU.
1. Instant Message from AREM

Bernard Walton waved a small wave as Alex and Cal gave their farewells. "Yeah. Bye." The two boys left the office, shutting the door behind them. Once they were gone, Bernard looked around at the now almost-empty office. He'd packed up most of the office supplies, leaving only the desk, chair, and computer. He sighed. "Okay, I guess that's it."

Suddenly, there was a curious beep behind him. "What was that?" He looked around to find its source. In his search, his eyes fell upon his computer screen—and Bernard noticed that it looked different. A little dialog box popped up. "Oh. My computer." He peered closer at the text, and read it aloud. "'Instant message from AREM. Do you wish to respond?'" He paused. "No, I wish to go home! Is there a button for that?" he asked the computer.

After a moment, though, Bernard sighed and sat back down at the desk. "Ehh… might as well see what this guy wants. Not like I have much else to do." He clicked the little 'yes' button in the dialog box.

Instantly, there was a little blip, and a computerized voice spoke. "Hi, there! What are you doing?"

Bernard's eyebrows went up. "Oh! Ha. Didn't know the thing talked." Then he replied "Uh, hi… AREM." The computer voice made no sound. "Hello?" he asked, louder. "Why isn't this thing working?" He studied the screen as he continued muttering. "What's the matter with this… oh." Bernard turned his attention to the keyboard and typed out his message. "'Hello. I'm getting ready to leave my office.' And hit Return."

"So I've heard," AREM replied. "It's probably for the best, though."

"Yeah," he said to himself. Then something occurred to him, and his eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. 'What's for the best?'"

"That you won't be working with Novacom after all."

It was true. His show, B-TV, had been bought by Novacom, but he'd refused to let their scriptwriters turn it into a secular showboat. So they renegotiated his contract. That was why he was packing up his things. But…

"Now… 'How did you know about that?'"

"I know a lot of things about Novacom."

"'Is that so?'"

"Would you like to know more?"

"'Not really.'"

"You're not interested in what Novacom is doing?"

"Oh, now… 'Is that the only reason you popped up on my computer? You already know I don't work for them anymore.'" Then Bernard muttered, "What this guy wants, I don't know…"

"Maybe you'd be more interested in what your cousin has been up to lately."

Bernard blinked in surprise. "What?" He hadn't expected the thing to ask about family, especially… but it _couldn't_ be talking about him. He shook his head. "'Which cousin?'"

"Eugene Meltsner. He is your cousin, isn't he?"

Apparently, it _could_. Bernard paused, considering what to type next. "'Why are you interested in Eugene?'"

"He's been very busy lately, with some important work."

Bernard scoffed, then replied. "'Is that all? He's always busy with something like that.'"

"This time, it's something dangerous. If he finds out just how much so, it could land him in serious trouble."

"Hold on, 'Are you telling me Eugene is in danger?'"

"Not yet. But his project _is_ dangerous."

Bernard sat back in his chair. If this thing was telling the truth, and Eugene was really working on something that could put him in danger… well, he wouldn't exactly be surprised. Eugene had done plenty of crazy things before. He'd roped Bernard into some of them, far more than once, even before they found out they were distantly related. But… well, this felt different. Maybe it was just this AREM thing showing up with all these secrets, but this time it seemed serious.

He sighed, then started typing. "'What project?'"

"Would you like me to show you?"

"I, uh… 'I guess so.'"

"Go to the Novacom website and click on 'Special Projects'."

"Website, huh? Okay. How do I get off of this… message thing? Um… oops, that's not it. Hold on. 'I don't know very much about computers.'"

"That's okay. I'll help you."

"'All right. Walk me through it.'"

* * *

"Hello, Bernard," Whit greeted as the window-washer came up.

"Oh, hi, Whit." He paused, uncertain of what to say first. "H-have you seen Eugene lately?"

Whit looked surprised by the question, as if he'd expected him to ask a different one. But he replied, "No, not lately. He's been busy with his work at Campbell College, and he's asked if I could spare him for a while."

"Any idea what he's working on?"

"No, he hasn't said anything. Though I got the impression it was something important."

"Oh." Bernard said nothing more for a moment.

"Why all the questions about Eugene?"

"Well, it's the funniest thing. A message popped up on my computer, said something about Eugene and some kind of project."

Whit lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I was just on my way out, too." He paused. "Speaking of which, uh… have you already hired somebody to do your windows?"

"Uh, no. Not yet."

"Ah." Bernard stopped again. Then, a few seconds later, once the silence became unbearable, he added, "You know, if you're gonna say 'I told you so,' will you just _say _it now and get it over with?"

Whit smiled. "Oh, Bernard, you know I'm not the type to do that!"

He shrugged. "Well…"

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with Novacom."

"Yeah." He thought back on it for a moment, then sighed. "Eh, it's all for the best, I guess. Now I can't wait to get back to my old cable access station again, with the…" His gaze wandered off, as he thought unhappily about the station and its prospects. "…the _one _camera, and a studio as big as an outhouse."

"Ah, but at least it'll be B-TV."

"Yeah, I suppose." He paused again, then shook his head. It was high time he stopped feeling sorry for himself and went on with business. "Well, I'll start upstairs. Though I need to borrow some paper towels and window cleaner."

"Hmm?"

"I didn't have a chance to buy new equipment. My old squeegee and bucket, well… ha, they're long gone now."

"Well, why don't you try using mine?"

"Uh, well, no offense, Whit, but I could never use a civilian squeegee."

"Well, could you possibly bring yourself to use… these?" At that, Whit took something from behind the counter and set it on top. The sight made Bernard's eyes widen in wonder.

"Wha—where in the _world_…?"

Whit laughed. "You recognize them?"

"Ha! I'd know that bi-component, non-slip squeegee handle anywhere! You got my old equipment back! How did you do that?"

"I bought them back from Edwin Blackgaard after I heard what happened at the station."

Bernard felt happier than he'd felt in a long time, and grateful. "Oh… well, thanks, Whit."

"Ah, you're welcome." Whit set a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You deserve it for not compromising your standards."

Whit never ceased to amaze him. "I d—I don't know what to say. Boy, are those things a sight for sore eyes."

"Would you like some time alone with your squeegee?"

Bernard looked at Whit, then picked up his old bucket and squeegee. "Yeah, I believe I'd like to go upstairs now, and…" He looked up at Whit and got a determined glint in his eye. "And don't you worry about a thing, Whit. Your windows are gonna shine like my uncle Emmet's head at high noon!"

"I'm counting on it."

Bernard tipped his hat slightly, then headed toward the stairs, whistling. He'd talk to Eugene some other time. For now, all that mattered was that he was back, and windows needed washing.


	2. The WE

_Weeks later__…_

Bernard pulled up in front of Whit's End around 5:00 that afternoon in his truck, got out his cleaning supplies, and started toward the door. But something caught his eye. "The W.E.?" he read aloud off the shop's sign. "What's that supposed to mean? Boy, these kids and their pranks, don't even make sense anymore." He strolled up to the door, intending to tell Whit what was done to his sign.

He opened it and was nearly bowled over by a pair of boys running out. "Hey, c-careful, you two!" he shouted after them, then rolled his eyes. "Kids these days." When he stepped inside, he was surprised to see an absolute swarm of kids buzzing loudly around the soda shop. "What in the world _is _all this? Hasn't been a crowd this big in here since New Year's."

Then he noticed the room itself, and all the changes. There were screens at every table, and nobody was at the counter. He wandered around the strange new Whit's End, trying to figure it out and failing.

"What kind of a crazy dream am I having here? Whit's End's called the W.E., computers all over the place, and… what even _is_ that thing? Must've been something I ate last night."

In observing his peculiar surroundings, he failed to heed the age-old advice to Watch Where He Was Going. That was why he suddenly found himself in a small collision. He ran into a man walking quickly across his path—equally oblivious of the same bit of advice. He nearly dropped his bucket. Bernard was about to sharply give him the advice they'd both been ignoring when the young man called him by name. "Mr. Walton?"

He looked up in surprised recognition, and found the reddish hair and round glasses of his cousin looking back at him. "Wha—Eugene?"

"I apologize for my carelessness, but in my haste, I must have—"

"Yeah, you must have, but what in the world are you doing here?"

Eugene gave him a scrutinizing frown. "Well, I hardly think my recent recurrent absence from this establishment indicates that I have left Mr. Whittaker's employ!"

In the past, Bernard probably wouldn't have gotten a word past "Well," especially the way Eugene said it. But over the years, he'd gotten pretty good at translating Eugene's fancy jargon. It only took him a second and a half to interpret this.

"Huh? Oh, I know you still work here, but I wouldn't have guessed it from all that 'recurrent absence' of yours. I've been trying to get in touch with you for weeks!"

"Well, I did receive the message you left with the secretary at the college a week previously, and made attempts to contact you myself. The message indicated urgency. However, I was unable to find you before I was metaphorically swept up by other responsibilities, which have kept me most occupied."

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy, too, this last week. What with my old customers flooding back and me having to sort everything out, and you with all your work at the college, I shouldn't have been surprised how we kept managing to miss each other."

"Indeed, it was rather fortuitous that we met—this was the sole occasion that I could arrange for a short respite from my duties. I had hoped to speak with Mr. Whittaker concerning your urgent communique. And, considering the circumstances, I thought it appropriate that I pay such a call here at our own Whit's End, on the day of its, I must say, rather spectacular reopening."

Translation: he was taking a break and wanted to talk to Whit about Bernard's message, and figured he'd do it today, since he'd heard Whit's End was having its new Grand Opening. It might also mean Bernard could finally get some answers. "You know something about all this, then? All these crazy changes?"

"Indeed. Mr. Whittaker announced a fortnight ago that he was accepting any and all suggestions for alterations to the shop."

"Oh, well, _that _I knew about. Even put in a couple of ideas myself."

"Indeed?"

"Yeah, you know, hand sanitizers on every table, a no-shoes policy to keep dirt from tracking in, a little 50-cent spill fee, things like that. How about you?"

"Well, if you truly wish to know, I suggested that it would behoove us to have an astronomically correct planetarium, with each heavenly body completing its orbit in the exact—"

Bernard cut him off before he could launch into an astronomy lecture (and he knew he would). "Yeah, yeah, it's a model solar system, I get it."

"Indeed. In fact, that was the very display for which I was bound when I collided with you."

"Oh! Well, don't wanna keep you from that."

"Would you like to view it with me?"

He shrugged. "Ehh, why not?" As they began walking, he looked around at the strange new features of the shop and added, "So this whole thing is called the W.E. At least the sign out front makes sense now. But you know, I didn't realize Whit was gonna use _all _the suggestions he got. It's practically a different place."

"Perhaps that was the intended effect."

"Almost reminds me of what that con Phillips tried to do around town years ago—though he was all about changing the _names_ to something fancier to get folks' attention, not everything _about_ the place. But I don't think even he would've expected somebody to go all out like this."

"Indeed?"

"Yep. He was just after the business marketing fee he charged, though. Fooled about everybody but Whit. Not me, of course, but…"

"Curiously enough, all these modifications of Mr. Whittaker's put me in mind of my own earliest days working here. I attempted to computerize each of the displays."

"Oh, you did, huh?"

"Yes, but Mr. Whittaker was most displeased, as the youths could not operate them manually any longer. So he had me retract my computerization."

"You know, normally I wouldn't be surprised at that. But all this now with the… the W.E., it seems awfully funny that he would change his mind like this. It doesn't quite seem like him."

"I concur." Eugene side-stepped awkwardly as a little girl ran between them. "But it appears as if the children of Odyssey do not."

"Maybe so." As they passed a doorway, Bernard glanced at a sign over the lintel. "Oh, looks like we found your planetarium."

Eugene followed his pointed finger, and read the sign aloud. "'The Celestial Spheres Planetarium.'" A gratified smile spread across his face, and he looked as honored as if he had been granted an award. "He even employed the appellation I suggested."

"Yeah, you must be proud."

They went in to see the display. It did not disappoint. The room was centered around a large model of the solar system, with the sun and each planet, as well as each of the planets' moons, in perfect orbit and rotation. Around the model went a railing, to keep people away from the actual machinery. Above was an added and beautifully painted dome ceiling.

Small computer stations were arranged at different spots in the walkway around the model. As they passed by one of them, labeled with a three, a boy stepped up to it and pressed a button. It came alive with the quote of a Bible verse: "'The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows His handiwork. Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night reveals knowledge.' Psalm 19:1-2. How may I help you?"

The boy uttered an awestruck "Cool!" then added, "How many days does it take Jupiter to go around the sun?"

There was a low beep, and the red-spotted planet above lit up with a small '3' on its surface. Then the computer replied. "The planet Jupiter takes 4,330.6 Earth days, or almost twelve Earth years, to orbit the sun. However, it rotates on its axis faster, and its days last about ten hours."

"Wow!"

The cousins stepped toward the railing to get a closer view. Though they'd complained of the many changes, neither could deny that Whit had certainly outdone himself with this one.

"My, it's more splendid than I could have imagined! And nearly accurate!"

"Yeah. You know, from what you said, I thought it wasn't gonna look like much, but it's actually pretty nice. A lot better than the one my brother made for his fifth grade science project. Made it out of messy papier-mache and a couple of hula hoops. It probably would've gotten a lot better grade if the dog hadn't jumped on it and started chewing on the yellow tennis ball he used for the sun."

"Astonishing."

"I'll say. It was my tennis ball."

The two cousins stood for a few moments more, admiring Whit's handiwork. Before too long, however, Eugene spoke up.

"Well, this has been most enjoyable, but I fear I must be off now."

"Just noticing it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, uh, I just noticed that… well, I need to get going, too. Whit wanted me to do his windows, but I don't see how I can with all these kids. I'm gonna need to talk to him about the schedule."

"Ah."

"And I don't wanna keep your from all your work at the college."

They started for the door, passing another Bible verse about the heavens painted on the wall (there were several of these around the room). But Eugene got a curious look on his face. "Do you know, Mr. Walton, that is the second occurrence of the phrase 'all your work at the college' in our conversation these past several minutes."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, I'm curious as to what you are referring. I don't believe I have mentioned any of my collegiate projects to anyone at Whit's End."

"Well, your radio wave project, or whatever it was. RWS, something like that."

Eugene's eyes widened and his voice tightened nervously. "I-I don't know what you're—"

"Oh, come on, you know what that is. That study thing where you're trying to figure out brain waves and radio waves and how to turn them into each o—"

Before he could say another word, Eugene slapped his hand over Bernard's mouth, glancing around furtively, and stepped with him back toward a corner.

"_Yhgnnf, grt yrr hnn rff mr mff!_"

"W-what?"

Bernard shoved his hand away and stepped back. "Get your hand off my mouth, now—what's _with _you?"

"Oh." Eugene stepped back, head lowered and shoulders lifted in a frozen, embarrassed shrug. "I-I apologize for my behavior. It must seem rather peculiar."

"Eugene, you're not even acting normal for _you_. What's the problem?"

He scratched the back of his head with one hand as he gestured with the other. "Well, I suppose my actions were perhaps a bit disproportionate—"

"_That__'s_ an understatement."

"—But I could not allow you to continue discussing the, um," and here his voice lowered, "_the project _so vociferously."

"Why? What's the matter with talking about it?"

"Well, to put it minimally, it is an exceptionally important research project. And until the Board determines otherwise, the study is meant to be confidential. Only authorized personnel are supposed to be aware of its purpose."

Translated: "Oh. Top secret, huh?"

He nodded vigorously. "Precisely. I would appreciate it if you retained this information beneath your millinery, colloquially speaking."

This phraseology, however, was beyond Bernard's powers of translation. "Huh?"

"Uh… keep it under your hat."

"Oh. Well, okay."

They resumed their walk toward the door, passing behind and through packs of kids. "May I inquire as to how you came to know so much about," he cleared his throat, "RWS?"

"Well, AREM showed me."

"Who, pray tell, is AREM?"

"_You _don't know?"

"If I had, I would not have questioned it."

"Well, for a while, I thought he was just a computer. Then I thought about it and figured he must've been some friend of yours at the college."

"I am well acquainted with all of my colleagues' usernames, and none of them go by that particular moniker, at least, none of which I am aware. Could you elaborate on your encounter with this 'AREM?'"

"Okay, uh, well, I was getting my things together a couple of weeks ago, after I stopped working for Novacom."

"Ah, yes, I was informed of that situation."

"Well, I was about done when this message popped up on the computer. When I answered it, AREM started talking."

"Was this an Instant Message?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. But he was saying things in this weird computer voice, and then the words appeared on the screen after he said them."

"I see. Likely a real-time voice alteration program used in conjunction with dictating software."

Bernard puzzled over this technical jargon, picking up on only one or two words. "I don't know. He didn't sound much like a Commie to me, but…"

"No, no, no," Eugene interjected (after blinking several times in an attempt to process the meaning of the term). "I mean, he must have software which takes dictation, a speech recognition program."

"Huh?"

Eugene sighed and attempted to spell it out. "A computer program which _recognizes_ the voice speaking and reproduces the words as letters in the instant messaging program. Apart from hacking, however, I'm uncertain of how he was able to play his voice, altered, simultaneously."

Bernard nodded slowly. "I _think _I get it. It's like the computer's being a radio and a secretary at the same time."

"Uh, I suppose that definition suffices. Please, continue."

"Oh. Well, he started talking about this secret project of yours, and asked if I wanted to find out what it was about."

"And you assented?"

"Well, yeah. He showed me where it was, and I went and took a look. Didn't really get most of it, though…"

* * *

**Author's Note: Cue the harp noises and let's find out (next time) what happened. #EpisodeReferences**

**Well, I finally updated it! Hope you enjoyed it, because I put a lot into this chapter (as evidenced by the longer wordcount, I guess). It was actually pretty fun coming up with Eugene's planetarium. And of course, all the episode references.**

**Funny enough, you know Eugene and Bernard's discussion comparing the W.E. with past attempts to change Whit's End? Well, each of the incidents they mentioned ended up being references to the first episodes they were both in: "Connie" and "By Any Other Name" respectively. I didn't even notice that until later in the writing of it.**

**Also, if anybody with more technological expertise than me noticed any slipups in what I put in about the planetarium or AREM, please tell me how it actually works. I know maybe as much as Connie when it comes to computers. I had to look it up to even get any idea of what I was talking about. :P**


	3. Unknown

_Weeks before__…_

"Okay, 'I'm on the'… what was it, the… 'browser. Can you still read me?'"

"Yes," AREM replied. "Look up the Novacom Broadcasting website on the browser."

Bernard typed all three words and hit Return. Once the page loaded, he clicked the first link that came up. "'I found it. Now what?'"

"On the website, click on 'Special Projects' at the bottom of the screen."

"Okay, where is… ah, there! Special Projects." He clicked it, but the computer suddenly started beeping at him. "Whoa! What did—" He looked closer at the screen. "What is this?" Uncertain, he typed another message. "'It started beeping at me. Should that be?'"

"What does it say?"

"'It's telling me I need a password.'"

"Do you want one?"

He kept scrutinizing the alert as the beeping continued. "'I don't know. Are you sure it's okay to do this?'"

"Do you want to help Eugene?"

He frowned. "'Well, yes, but I don't want to get arrested or something.'"

"You won't."

"'How do you know?'"

No answer. He started to type another message, but changed his mind.

Now what? Was he just supposed to believe this computer thing and hope he didn't get a visit from the police? And how was rummaging around in Eugene's computer projects going to help, if it was actually dangerous? He didn't know anything about that kind of thing. Or about this kind of situation. Eugene probably knew.

Then again, Bernard knew his cousin.

He groaned and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Doggone it, Eugene, what are you getting me into this time?" But for the continuous beeping, he never heard an answer. Finally, he sighed. "I don't know why I do these things." He leaned forward to the keyboard again. "'What's the password?'"

"The password is: Great Unknown."

"Ehh, that's not ominous," he muttered with a roll of his eyes. But, without another thought, Bernard put in the password. The beeping alert went away, leaving only the 'Special Projects' webpage. He typed back to AREM. "Okay, 'I'm in. What now?'

"Look for the 'Radio Wave Study.'"

He scanned the page, trying to spot it. "Radio waves, radio—oh, here. 'Click on that?'"

"Yes." This was done. "Once the page has loaded, go to the bottom of the screen, and click on 'Medical Tests.'"

Bernard scrolled down slowly with the mouse, found 'Medical Tests,' and clicked. "'Got it.'"

"Now just click on 'Reports,' and download or print."

"Download or print? Now, how am I supposed to do that?" He tried double-clicking 'Reports,' and the first page of one such popped up onscreen. Bernard studied the words, murmuring them to himself. "'A Report on the Conversion of Brain Waves to Radio Waves, by Eugene Meltsner.' Huh, wonder why anybody would wanna know about a thing like that." He returned to typing. "'So this Brain Wave thing is Eugene's project?'"

"Yes."

"'But how is this dangerous?'"

"Tell Eugene what you know, and ask him what will happen if the process—"

All of a sudden, AREM's voice was cut off. The computer screen blinked white before plunging into complete blackness. "What? Oh, now, what's this?" He tried clicking the mouse and hitting random buttons on the keyboard, but the computer did nothing. "Ahh, this stupid contraption…" He hit the space button a little harder, but nothing came of it.

Not knowing what else to do, Bernard shrugged and sighed. "Well, I guess I probably oughtta get going anyway, see if I can get some of my old customers back. I've had about enough of computers." He got up from the desk, looked around to see if any of the things left in the office were actually his, and (finding none) picked up the small, light box of his stuff and left.

A few moments after he was gone, two men—technicians—ran into the office and turned the computer back on. Once it was back up, they turned on the browser. But it only showed a blank page.

While one of them checked the browsing history, the other's pager went off. "Yes, sir?"

"Did you find anything?"

"Nope. Browser's empty. I guess you got the trace?"

"Yes, but it's only a motel in the middle of nowhere. Tech is checking their logs for familiar names, but they probably won't find anything. Our man is smart. He'll likely be gone by the time we get somebody out there."

"We'll check downloads to see if he put anything in. Oh, and you should go ahead and have Kip change the password again."

"Already on it. But I don't think he'll be happy."

"Probably not. Any idea who was on this end?"

"Not unless it was the yokel they had working in here before. I caught a glimpse of him in here with his office equipment. I doubt he'd have enough tech-savvy to operate a toaster."

"I guess we'll just have to see."

* * *

_The present__…_

"So I got my things and left, then came here to Whit's End," Bernard finished.

"Fascinating. D-did anything else come of it?"

"Not that I know of. I didn't get any kind of a visit from the police, so I assume things are fine on that front. Nothing else out of the ordinary has happened these last few weeks."

"No other messages?"

"Nope. Haven't even touched a computer since then."

Eugene seemed to wince. Apparently, the thought of not touching a computer for weeks was painful to him. The expression soon passed, though, and he dissolved into what looked like solemn thought, with only a "Hmm" to go with it.

"So, how've _you _been?" the other continued casually. "Seeing much of anybody, besides your computer?"

"Mr. Walton, please, this is most serious. Unless one of my colleagues is utilizing an alternate username of which I am not aware, someone has illegal access to our research project and passwords, and is sending them to random users on the internet!"

"Oh, believe me, I have no doubt that it's serious. But I don't think it was random. I mean, the guy knew who I was, knew I was your cousin, even knew I'd left Novacom! All before I said anything to him. Now, that'd have to be an awfully big coincidence for it to be random."

"Oh! Indeed!" Eugene wondered, considering the point for the first time. "And, as per Mr. Whittaker's influence, I no longer believe there are such things as coincidences."

"Yeah, me neither." He shrugged. "Maybe he was just looking for somebody connected to you."

"Perhaps so, but _why?_"

They fell silent, puzzling over the question. Bernard was the first to reenter the conversation. "Has, uh, has anything happened to you these past few weeks?"

"Nothing atypical, aside from my work on the project itself. Certainly no enigmatic messages."

"Oh. That's good, I guess."

Another brief silence. Eugene sighed sharply and straightened. "Well, there is no question on the matter. I must look into this 'AREM' person further. He may be dangerous to our project."

"Yeah, you do that."

"Indeed I will. Thank you for informing me of the situation, Mr. Walton."

Eugene spun around and started to tramp off, still deep in thought. If he'd been allowed, his pace would likely have soon matched the speed at which his mind was going. But his words had reminded Bernard of something else, something important. He jogged after Eugene to catch up. "Oh, uh, Eugene? Before you go?"

The other stopped and faced the other again. "Uh, yes? What is it, Mr. Walton?"

"Just one more thing," he said as he came to a stop. "It's actually the thing I wanted to talk to you about in the first place."

"Oh? Well, then, by all means, say on!"

He scratched the back of his neck, trying to think of the right words to say without sounding too worried about it. "Well, this, uh, this AREM fellow, now, he said that your project was the kind of thing that might get you some serious trouble. He said it was dangerous."

"Oh, come now—"

He waved his hand around and spoke quicker. "I know, I know, and you'd probably know a lot more about this whole thing than I would, but… well, I just want you to be _careful_, that's all."

"Oh." Eugene glanced down, seeming almost embarrassed. In truth, he had thought Bernard was simply disparaging his work (he'd certainly done enough of that about his computers). "Well, thank you for your concern, Mr. Walton. But you needn't worry. I'm certain I can appropriately handle myself when it comes to science."

"Yeah, that's what you always say before I have to come get you out of trouble. Goodness knows, when you get in trouble, it means no end of trouble for me."

"Well, rest assured, I won't trouble you this time."

He nodded slowly, his thoughts muttering "_Yeah, right_," but his mouth only saying, "Uh-huh. Well, be careful anyway."

"You as well. And thank you again."

"Ehh, you're welcome. See you, Eugene."

"Farewell!" The bespectacled boy waved, turned, and headed off through the crowds of kids.

Bernard kept an eye on him until he was out of sight, then sighed. "Well, that's that. I hope." And he himself left the planetarium behind to go find Whit, not noticing a bald man, standing across the hall, watching him with a dubious smile.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Hope things are getting interesting! The next chapter is sort of just funny fluff, but it connects. After that... well, you'll see.**

**Also, hats off to anyone who gets the song reference.**


End file.
